


Full Moon

by crowleyshouseplant



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowleyshouseplant/pseuds/crowleyshouseplant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lena prompted: a fic in which melissa and danny casually talk about how people should just say they're werewolves/lizard monsters instead of being all secretive</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Moon

Scott’s gone—like he’s been gone for the past few months. In the evening, in the morning. Sometimes even when he’s right there with her, when they’re eating dinner like they’ve always done, when they’re cleaning up and washing up, and Melissa hedges her words—comfortably vague, yet inviting.

Like a door that’s half-open, half-closed. Could go either way—could just walk past or just not.

So she does what she always done when she waits for Scott to come around on his own time, to stop moseying around the block and to just tell her. She kicks off her shoes, she turns on the tv, and flips until she finds a re-run of an old soap, an old sci fi show, and settles down with a cup of cocoa and whipped cream cradled in the palms of her hands.

The door knocks and she peeps through the peephole to see Danny leaning in so she can see his face more easily.

She likes that Danny knocks—she can make sure everything looks as tidy as possible or she can pretend not to be home if she doesn’t feel like visiting with anybody.

Melissa remembers when Danny used to drop by all the time—with Scott, when they’d been dating for a brief time and then it had ended naturally, and they were still friends, just not those kinds of friends, and it was perfectly okay.

Still—it’d been a while since Danny had come by and Melissa opens the door, holding her arms out and Danny steps into them, giving her a loose-tight hug. She asks if he wants hot chocolate or coffee and he chooses the former and she says she hadn’t been planning on making dinner but there were a few bags of popcorn left that she could stick in the microwave and Danny says yes to that too.

Waiting for the popcorn to pop, a Christmas mug between his palms, they sit at the table, not saying much even though the sun’s glare dull’s away into a flat, twilight grey and Danny says, offhandedly, “It’s the full moon tonight.”

“I know,” Melissa says. “Scott’s out.”

“So’s Jackson.” Danny looks down at his hot chocolate, swirled mountain top of whipped cream melting. “I saw him, you know. At the club. All of them, I guess.” He rubs the back of his neck with his arm. “We’re best friends, you know?”

Melissa nods, remembering when Scott would loop an arm around her shoulder, press a kiss to her head, and say,  _You’re my best friend, Mom_.  The microwave pings, and she gets up to split the popcorn into two plastic bowls, swearing as she accidentally burns her fingers in the escaping steam and leaking butter.

“And I want him to trust me with it—because, let’s be honest here, I’d recognize those eyes anywhere—“ and Danny falls silent again, simply taking a small handful of popcorn, and eating the salty, buttery popped kernels. “But I get that people need their spaces right? But it’d just—it’d just be easier.” He takes a gulp of his cocoa. “So what if Jackson’s a lizard monster! Or Scott’s a werewolf,” he says, arms raised in a what the fuck gesture that makes the entire room feel too small. “I just want them to be safe.”

“I care,” Melissa says, chewing on her lip—the salt from the popcorn stings where she’d broken through the skin--staring into her mostly empty cup, at the dregs of lacy foam and cream clinging to the lip. “I care that my son’s a werewolf.”  Do werewolves have special dietary needs? Would his asthma come back? Should she keep filling his prescription? What if Scott caught something that only werewolves could get? Nurses hadn’t studied infections in werewolves or werewolf specific infections.

What if Scott came to her for help, strapped in an ambulance gurney, and she didn’t know what to do?

Maybe she should start a blog for parents in similar predicaments.

“And?” Danny raises his eyebrows at her, nods encouraging.

She rolls her eyes. “And that Jackson’s a lizard-monster.”

“Kanima,” Danny says, helpfully. “That’s what they called it.”

Melissa laughs, can’t help it, but it sounds too loud, too harsh in the almost-dark kitchen. “They can blithely tell their entire class—but they can’t tell us.”

They bow their heads, button up their lips, and look at their empty mugs for a moment until Melissa clears her throat a little too loudly. “Well, I think that calls for more cocoa and I saw that channel six is having an X-files marathon. Wanna join me?”

Danny nods, and he helps her clean up the popcorn bowls, and they settle up on the couch, tv on low, phones out on the table, as they hum along during the credits.


End file.
